Fathers
by Astellya
Summary: Inspired by the preview for the Three Card Monte Job. A brief look at Nate, Sophie, and Eliot's fathers.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **I watched the preview for next week's episode of Leverage and I was excited to see Nate's dad is making an appearance! So this is inspired by that.

I hated my father. He was a bastard and a drunk. We were "Catholic" so Mom insisted that they needed lots of kids. That's how I ended up with three sisters and a brother. I was the second oldest. My brother was older but he was never as smart as me. He was convicted of shop lifting by the time he was eight. So I took over as the eldest because I was the most responsible. I took care of my three little sisters when my dad got into one of his moods. I always ended up taking the brunt of his anger. Sometimes it was just shouting but on rare occasions, he would hit me.

He was a bastard. He treated my mother terribly. And he hated my brother. And my brother tried to impress him at every opportunity. That's why I don't get along with my brother. Dad always preferred me over him and Dad made no effort to hide his favoritism. My father didn't care too much about my sisters. He just demanded that they look presentable and never talk back. They weren't expected to help him steal. He wanted them to stay home and cook and clean for him. And two of them were content to do that.

The sister that was closest to me in age, she was only a year younger, always wanted to show our father that she could do just as much as any boy. She played baseball with boys, played hockey with boys, and wore her hair short. She hated cleaning and burnt everything she tried to cook. She was a tomboy. And my father hated that. When I was older and had a job to help support the family, she was left there with my useless mother and my younger sisters. She became the punching bag when she was about fifteen or sixteen. It was my fault, really. I always tried to distract him, but I had a job and I couldn't be around all the time.

Some days he was a great father. I remember distinctly that he would take us to the beach for a day during the summer to give Mom a break from us. He loaded all five of us in his car and let us run wild on the beach. He did this up until the year he finally went to prison. I have lots of good memories at the beach. It was the one time it was guaranteed that he wouldn't be a bastard. He would buy us cold drinks and icecream and treats. He would chase us around, making my sisters shriek with delight when they were younger. He would take us to dinner at night and we would eat stuff Mom decreed was "junk" and snicker about it.

But, when the sun set, he would pack us into the car and take us home. We would all be dejected because we all knew that, once we got home, he would become a drunk again. And he would push us around.

I took a sip of the whiskey that sat on the table and I came to a horrifying conclusion. I was a bastard. And I was a drunk.

I had turned into my father.

**A/N: **Tada. I hope you liked it! Please review.


	2. Sophie

**A/N: **I had fun with my first chapter… So here's another one.

I suppose I've had many fathers over the years. My "real" father, the man whose name is on my birth certificate, was a London official who didn't have time for children. He was a wonderful man, yes, but I only saw him once a month until I was eighteen. He tried to be kind and helpful, but he was too busy to really be concerned about me. He was rich enough to provide my mother with enough child support to keep me in a fairly decent school and he always remembered my birthdays and Christmases. He was wonderful but he was more like a doting uncle than a father.

I had one stepfather from the age of ten to fifteen. He was a good man even though he wasn't too fond of children. He loved my mother and that was the only important thing. The only thing was that he was about eighty years old. My mother married him for his money. He was a good man and he never hurt me or my mother and I suppose that's all I could've asked for. He died when I was fifteen and I cried. He was good company even if my mother was only using him.

When I turned sixteen, my mother was about to get married again. She was married to a man who was some sort of royalty. He was a Duke or an Earl, I don't quite remember. He was a prick that enjoyed pushing us around. He was the one who forced me to wear masks to hide pain. Though he only struck me, I knew he did worse to my mother. She had gotten herself in too deep and she couldn't save either of us from him. Some days I would go down for breakfast and find her sitting at the table, her eyes hollow from whatever torture that man had put her through. The day he tried something of the like with me, my mother exploded and he nearly killed her. She ordered me to run and I did. I used my skills to become a grifter and I stole for a living.

It turned out I had an affinity for the illegal and I was "adopted" by an older gentleman. He was an older grifter, past his prime. He saw me pull a scam and offered his assistance. He taught me everything else I needed to know about grifting. He also taught me about art and how to best steal a painting. He was sweet and he wanted to leave behind a legacy. We stole together until I was nineteen and he deemed that I was old enough to strike out on my own. I still mail him occasionally.

I've learned a lot from each of my fathers. My real father put me through one of England's best schools and provided me with a top notch education. My first stepfather taught me how to bluff like a pro. My second stepfather taught me the evils of the world. And my mentor taught me how to steal. Without them, I wouldn't be who I was today. Sometimes I wonder what would've happened if I hadn't met one of them. About who I would be now if that were the case. I am thankful for each of them in their own way.

**A/N: **Another one… Please review.


	3. Eliot

**A/N: **I know these are short… But they're fun!

My dad was a great guy. He was a real cowboy complete with hat and long hair. He owned a farm in Kentucky and he taught me how to ride. He provided for the family every day by working hard. We didn't have much, but we earned every penny we had. My father was the most honest person I have ever met. He played the role of caregiver and provider on his own. My mother was sick a lot after the birth of my brother and she spent most of her time in the hospital. The days when she was home were hard on her. She didn't have the strength to take care of her three kids. So Dad had to step in.

I was five when my mother first fell ill. My sister was three and my brother was just a baby. Dad waited with us in the hospital, dreading the diagnosis. We waited to learn what was wrong with her and Dad did his best to take care of us.

In the end, I had to take care of my brother and sister. Dad had to work in order to pay for Mom's medical bills and he couldn't afford to hire us a nanny. Luckily, things didn't get too hard until I was eight. Dad had a bad harvest and he had to get work in town over the winter. He would be gone for weeks at a time, leaving me to take care of a six year old and a four year old. I struggled to make it work with only minor assistance from neighbors but somehow I managed. I never blamed my dad for leaving us to work. He did everything for us.

When I was older, about twelve, I got a job working for a local farmer. He paid me a meager salary but it was enough to help out. My sister cooked and cleaned so I wouldn't have to worry. My brother tried to help as much as he could, but he was constantly falling ill. Dad was worried about him so he finally brought him to the hospital one day. My brother was diagnosed with liver failure and he needed a new liver. We waited and waited for the transplant list and all of us were tested. Unfortunately, my mother was the only match. And she was too ill to spare a piece of her liver.

It took almost two years for him to die in the hospital. He was ten years old. My sister and I were devastated by the loss of our brother. Our mother took it especially hard. She stopped coming home and grew even sicker. Four months later and she died as well. Dad was beyond distraught. He had lost his youngest child and wife within four months of each other. He was in shock for a few days after my mother's death before he took a deep breath and got back to work.

I began wrestling in high school and I had an affinity for it. I began making some money wrestling outside of school. A local offered to teach me tae bow and I agreed. I worked out my anger over the unfairness of the world and I gained a useful skill. I played football and did home-ec to take my mind off of things. My sister and I stuck together in the house as our father worked hard to provide for us and to keep his sanity.

My father was strong despite how wrong everything had gone. He tried to spend as much time with me and my sister as he could but it was hard on him. He missed our mother so much. Not to mention our brother. He put up a brave front and attended most of my games. He only missed about five my entire high school career. I joined the military shortly afterward and, despite his reservations about the military, he encouraged me. He supported me every step of the way. I kissed my sister and hugged my dad and left.

A few years passed and I went home, excited. I found my house and went inside. I found my sister and a young child, my niece. I asked her where Dad was and she told me he died last year. She tried to contact me but it was impossible. I stayed with her and met a girl named Amy and fell in love. I left to provide for my family, just like my father, but, unlike him, I never came back.

My father remains my hero to this day. He was the most hardworking, loyal man I have ever had the pleasure to meet. He faced disaster and kept moving. I like to think that I'm like him in that respect. I never fall in a fight. Just like him. And, one day, I hope to be just like him. Because he was the greatest person to walk this earth.

**A/N: **I didn't want them to all hate their fathers… because that's just too… cliché. So, at least in this fic, Eliot loves his father. I don't know where this came from… It started from a tiny thought and expanded into this monster! Anyways, please review.


End file.
